Hetalian Scary Stories To Tell in the Dark
by TheOttomanEmpire
Summary: Pretty self explanitory. Scary urban legends with Hetalia characters in them. The first one's pretty sad. Rated T for language and character death. Rating may change.
1. First Story: SuFin Buried Alive

**OTTO: My epic buddy, Chi-Chan 11 and I decided to write a series of Hetalia horror drabbles. So here it is! **

** First story; A SuFin version of Buried Alive, Finland being the dead wife, and Sweden being the distraught husband. I want to say that this isn't a scary horror story, but it's sadder because of our little Finny. . . Uhm, I'm a huge SuFin fan, so sorry if anyone hates me for killing off Finland.**

** No summary, because I think "Hetalia horror drabbles" is pretty self explanatory. ChiChi came up with the idea to use SuFin and Buried Alive, and I wrote it. Hope you love.**

**WARNING: Human names used, Sweden cussing, Sweden losing his cool like a boss, and "dead" Finland.**

** Enjoy,**

**OTTO and ChiChi.**

* * *

Berwald sat on the chair in the waiting room, sobbing silently into his hands. He couldn't believe that the only man he'd ever loved was now dead. He removed his hands from his face and leaned back, shaking his head as he stared at the stained hospital ceiling. He felt as though his heart had snapped in tw-, no! He no longer felt as if he had a heart. He turned his head slightly to gaze blurrily at the Emergency Room his "wife" had just been pronounced dead in.

No. He refused to believe that his lovely little Tino was dead! There was no way he could be! Berwald balled his fists in rage at Doctor Alfred F. Jones' stupidity. '_How dare he lie to me?_' Berwald thought. '_There's no way that Tino is dead!_' Insane with rage, the tall Swede stormed into the ER, almost running into the stupid American that had falsely claimed his Finnish lover to be dead.

"I got a probl'm w'th ya, J'nes!" He yelled at the shorter man. "Ya see, th're aint no way th't T'no's dead! Th're's no f'ckin' w'y!"

The American shook his head at the rough English. "Hey, look dude. The guy's already dead. There's nothin' we can do about it, bro."

Berwald's entire body shook with hatred for Dr. Jones. In a desperate flash, Berwald was across the room, gripping the hand of Tino's eternally sleeping body, sobbing against his small chest. He just couldn't stop. He loved little Tino so much, and he absolutely couldn't let him go yet!

Jones tried his very best to get Berwald away from the lifeless Tino, but the Swede wouldn't budge. Soon, after exhausting every method he dared attempt to get the tall man away, the American called for security to drag him out.

That night, sleep wouldn't come to poor, upset Berwald. He tried to fall asleep, he really did! He just couldn't, knowing that his beloved was buried in a gruesome coffin in the burial plot behind their beautiful home, just outside Berwald's window. Who could sleep with that knowledge.

All that night, Berwald called Dr. Jones' office, furious at him, but the man always hung up shortly after. Around two a.m. the next morning, Dr. Jones' came to the house with a sedative that put him right to sleep, then left. Unfortunately, sleep brought the poor Swede a terrible nightmare.  
In his nightmare he saw the love of his life, tiny Tino, franticly clawing at the lid of the coffin. His lovely blue eyes were panicked, and his face was twisted in fear, cold sweat rolling down his face. The poor man huffed and puffed, but grew more and more purple each time he attempted to draw a breath.

Berwald awoke screaming.

"J'nes!" Berwald shouted when the doctor picked up the phone. "Ya need t' d'g 'p T'no! He aint dead, d'mn 't!"

"Mr. Oxenstierna." Dr. Jones started sleepily. "It's only been an hour, dude. Lemme get some sleep. . . In reply, no. I will not dig up your husband."

". . . He w's meh w'fe. . ." Berwald corrected sadly, then hung up the phone.

The same process happened for a week, each time Berwald more frantic and psychotic than the last, until Alfred F. Jones finally gave in.

Eight days after Tino had been buried, the Doctor had his body exhumed from the soft, muddy earth. Berwald was the first to run to the coffin, prying the bolted-down-lid off with his bare hands. Everyone gasped, save for poor Berwald who broke down in loud, choking sobs.

Tino lay in the coffin, body and face twisted in frozen panic, but slightly relaxed. His long fingernails had been shredded and dried blood crusted over his fingers. On the lid of the coffin, there were scratch marks straight through to the other side, and dirt had fallen into the coffin, covering the nice suit Tino had been buried in.

Doctor Jones was fired, and arrested for manslaughter. Berwald hung himself in his bedroom, facing the gravestone of his lover almost a year later. Poor little Tino suffered most of all, having to suffocate for three days before dying in the coffin.

Some people who visit the old house that Berwald and Tino lived in, say that they can still hear a man sobbing in the master bedroom, and shrieks and scratching noises in the back yard. It appears that, though this tragedy occurred many years ago, Tino and Berwald Oxenstierna are still with us, forever trapped in the house they shared when they lived.

* * *

**Oh my God, don't kill me! I didn't mean for it to be that gruesome! I love SuFin, but I had to make them suffer. *Shot***

** Q.Q Pleas, no one hate me. . . **

** Well, hoped those of you psychos actually reading this enjoyed that story. Next one will probably be UsUk "The Hook".**

** Read, Review, Look forward to the next chapter.**

**Peace always,**

**OTTO**

**P.S. I'm going Goth, so my stories will be darker from now on.**


	2. Second Story: UsUk The Hook

**Readers,**

** I'm typing this at school, during lunch, so this may be a little censored.**

** . . . Or not. Who can say? B)**

** So this chapter is UsUk for "The Hook". Should be gorier than it actually is in the story, so. . . Whatever? I don't think I care. I'm starting to become more of a FrUk fan because I keep imagining the FACE family. With France as the hard-working husband, Iggy as the loving wife, and Canada and America as the sons. Ahhh~! I love that sort of thing~! Oh, and guess who the deranged lunatic is. . . That's right! Who's more mentally unstable than Russia?**

** Uh, so, yeah. That's, like, it. Uhm. . .**

**Enjoy,**

**OTTO**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

It was dark that evening. Night had fallen early, despite it being midsummer. A single car was parked in a more secluded parking spot in the town's "Lover's Lane". A Ford F-150. Two boys sat in the car; a tall younger one, and a short older one.

The man in the driver's seat leaned over next to the short boy and kissed him. "Thanks for coming out here with me, Artie." The tall teenager said, pulling away. The older boy puffed in anger.

"My name's Arthur, you bloody git!" He corrected, smacking the other upside the head, then turning softer. "Where else would I be, Al?"

Alfred was about to say something stupid, but was interrupted as the smooth jazz song they listened to was abruptly cut off. A man's voice rang loud and clear from the speakers, an urgent tone laced under a sound of slight fear.

"We interrupt your song for an important news story." The man said. "A convicted murderer, Ivan Braginsky, has escaped from the state insane asylum. If anyone sees a suspicious character with a hook in place of his right hand, please report his whereabouts to the police immediately, and vacate the area. Thank you for your time."

As the man's voice shut off, and the music slowly came back on, Arthur sank further into his seat. "The asylum. . ." He whispered, turning to Alfred with a worried look in his eyes. "That's not far from here! We should leave! I heard that Braginsky's killed three men already! I think they were brothers. . ."

Arthur kept rambling on in the way he always did when he got worried. Alfred frowned, still staring at the radio. Deciding that he didn't want to lose his chance to make out with the sexy Britt, Al simply locked the doors and windows.

"Come on, Artie." Al said comfortingly, wrapping his arm around the older boy. "Nothing can hurt you! The hero's here to protect you!" He leaned in to kiss Arthur once more, but the frantic teen shoved him away.

"Knock it off!" He shouted, suddenly in a mood. "You need to take us home, _NOW_!"

Slightly crestfallen, Al started to pull out of the lot.

When the two arrived back at Al's house, they started to get out of the car. It had been decided that Arthur would stay with Alfred that night. As Arthur got out of the car, he started yelling and screaming in shock. Al ran over to see what had happened.

The two stood there, Arthur still screaming, staring down at a bloody hook embedded in the door handle. While they stood and stared, neither of them noticed the twisted smile on the face of the huge man that walked up behind them, his right hand missing, and a knife in the left.

The man walked up behind them swiftly and slit Al's throat. He dropped to the ground, gurgling and trying to scream. Arthur tried to force the knife away from the clearly insane man, but his tiny body was unable to wrench the short blade away.

"Wh-wh-why'd you kill Al!?" Arthur screamed hysterically. The man laughed, his thick Russian accent lacing every sick 'Kolkolkol' sound that flooded from his mouth. "Because it is fun, da?" He hissed, bringing the knife down into Arthur's stomach. The Russian continued to giggle insanely as he stabbed again and again at the lifeless, quickly chilling body.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

** Uh. . . . So, I know I stretched that out a little longer than the story actually is, but I think it was worth it. Like I told you guys last time, if you like that pairing, please don't hurt me. The death of UsUk was for the benefit of the story! *Shot* X,X**

** Otto-Chan's little sister: Please review, and have an absolutely magical day~!**


	3. Thrid Story: China Humans Can Lick, Too

**Readers, **

**I apologize, but this story may not be as good as the first two. I haven't planned this one out nearly as much, so I'm sort of making this up as I go along. **

**. . .Which I. . . Never. . . Do. . . Eheh.**

**Uh, so, I had help on this story from a fan. I thank and give partial credit to Pandryoshka for her help on this story. Thanks, Panda! Oh yeah, I'm calling you Panda, now. I give everyone I think are awesome nicknames.**

**BTW, what's with me and axe murderers? Um, sorry Russia! Please don't hate me! You're gonna be an escaped lunatic again!**

**Ehem, anyway, enjoy**

**OTTO**

Yao sat quietly on his couch, hugging Panda close as he watched the 10 O'clock news. The announcer spoke gravely as he described the escaped lunatic who was expected to have a weapon of some sort.

"A tall, silver haired Russian. Please be on the lookout for anyone fitting this description."

The Chinese man shuddered as the lunatic was described. He sounded familiar, but Yao was sure he'd never met him. He clutched Panda closer, who didn't make a sound. Yao looked down at the black-and-white bear in worry. He looked back up at him; his black, beady eyes bright and adorable.

Yao couldn't help it. He was so damn cute! He crushed Panda in his arms with a choking hug. Panda made a small noise as Yao squeezed the life out of him, proving that he was perfectly fine. Except for the choking.

As Yao headed off to bed, the crushing fear he'd had earlier about that escaped lunatic, Ivan Braginsky, or whoever, came flooding back to him. His face dripped with cold sweat. The picture they'd shown on the news made him look downright _terrifying_. Panda made a small noise as Yao set him down on the floor.

Panda scampered out of the room, and Yao walked over to the dresser and put his pajamas on.

He turned around and saw a rather good sized lump under his quilt on his bed. "Huh? Panda?" The Asian inquired. "When did you get in here?" Panda didn't make a sound. Shrugging, and still slightly fearful, Yao shut off the lights and crawled into bed.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip. . ._

Water dripped from the faucet in the bathroom. Attempting to calm his nerves, Yao reached his hand down to pet Panda. He couldn't quite reach him, but he felt Panda soothingly lick his fingertips.

If you've ever felt a dog lick you, a panda licking you is pretty much the same. It's just rougher and feels slightly less slimy. It was soothing, really. So soothing, in fact, that Yao found himself growing sleepy. Before long, Yao had fallen asleep, despite the eerie dripping noise that came from the bathroom.

~~~~~. . . .~~~~~

The next morning, Yao woke up slowly and with great difficulty. His head felt heavy and his eyes were squinting to shut out the early morning sun. Still not quite awake, Yao climbed out of his bed and walked to the bathroom. The dripping noise was still there, only there was a greater length of time in between drops.

"Hey, Panda!" Yao called, looking for his black and white friend. "Panda, where ar-?" Yao stopped as soon as he entered the bathroom. Hanging from the head of the shower, was Panda. His throat was slit, and blood dripped down his body and onto the floor. On the mirror, written in poor Panda's blood, was this:

"What's black, white, and red all over? Humans can lick too, you know!"

* * *

**Thanks for reading, guys. I'm sorry it's so short. Hope you enjoyed.**

**M: Hi. I'm Otto's closest friend. We've known eachother since we were both very young. I'm sorry to say this, but she's been rather depressed lately, hence why she barely put anything in this AN and why it took her so long to update. Please review, and be gentle with your words. Again, we both sincerely apologize for the shortness of this story.**


	4. Fourth Story: Ukraine Porcelain Doll

**Readers,**

** Sorry it's taken so long for me to update this. I feel kind of awful about it, because so many of you liked it. But a promise is a promise, so I'm working with one of my friends on a zombie story for NaruBleach-Chan's birthday. BTW, you should all wish her a good one~! **

** So, this one is about Ukraine. She gets a doll. And shit goes down. I don't actually remember what story this is based off of, but I'll let you know when I do. Now, I think this one might creep some of my readers out, y'know, spiders and all. Hell, I've got severe arachnophobia myself! But this must be written! For I feel like it!**

** The site says that Ukraine's human name would be Iryne, so that's what I'm goin' with. Sorry if you hate that.**

** Enjoy, kiddos.**

**The Ottoman Empire**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

Iryne skipped down the street, giddily clutching a doll in her hands. She loved dolls; simply adored them! Since she had always been rather poor, she always enjoyed getting a new doll. Even as a grown woman, she had to love those pretty, painted faces. No matter how creepy they were, or how they seemed to watch her with almost human eyes as she slept.

Today, she had acquired the new doll at a department store that she and her sister, Natalia, had gone to together. Natalia, deciding to be nice to her sister for once, bought Iryne the doll with an unsure smile.

Now, Iryne was skipping home, happy as can be, the doll's pretty painted face glinting in the sunlight. Upon her arrival home, Iryne placed the doll on a stand with the others in her bedroom. Giggling in delight, the silver-haired woman ran from her room to go see her friend Alfred.

The next morning, Iryne woke up to a sticky-note posted to her bedside table.

_"Iryne,_

_ Brother and I will be out of the house for a couple of days. Don't do anything stupid. We'll be back by Sunday._

_ ~Natalia and Ivan"_

Iryne blinked at the note for a second before standing up and climbing out of bed. She walked over to her wardrobe to get dressed for a long day of farming. As she ate breakfast that morning, Iryne noticed that her cheek was rather sore. She figured it was just from her smiling too much, as that was frequently the case, and went about her daily chores.

This pain went on for a couple of days, only increasing in sensitivity as Iryne went along. Figuring she'd had enough pain, she walked over to her mirror and took a close look at her face. She was startled to find a large, ugly lump covering a large portion of her cheek.

At first, she thought it was a pimple, so she gently squeezed it. All of a sudden, hairy black spiders started to pull themselves out of the lump on her face. Iryne screamed, calling for help but no one came; the house was empty. She tore at the spiders, trying to scare them away from her, but there were hundreds of them, maybe even millions. The spiders, spooked by Iryne's sudden movement, all started biting her.

…...

Iryne's body was found three days later, in her bedroom, by her brother and sister. Her cause of death was heart failure, most likely as a result of the spider's poison. A whole nest of spiders was found inside the head of the porcelain doll her sister had bought her. Natalia hung herself three days later in Iryne's room.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

** Q.Q This killed me to write. Maybe a paranoid kid with arachnophobia shouldn't have written this. . . On that note, I have no regrets! I feel like that turned out pretty well! Um, so if you have any questions, please put them in a review. I'm having some issues with my PM's at the moment, so I'll answer questions in my next chapter.**


	5. Fifht Story: Baltic, Lights

**Readers,**

** HOLY SHIT, IT FEELS SOOOOOOOO GOOD TO BE BACK! I've been grounded for **_**three months**_**! This is fucking beautiful! I'm so happy, now! Let's fix that, shall we? Hmm. . . How about some more axe-murdery Russians? Sorry, Russians. It's just fun to use your country as a serial killer. Don't hate me.**

** So, anyone remember that story where those two college kids share a dorm? The one kid stays home studying, and the other goes out partying? Then the kid who was out all night comes home, he decides not to turn on the lights. Yeah? Yeah? You remember that? Yeah, I bet you do. . . Featuring Ivan, Toris, Raivis, and Eduard.**

** Damn it, I feel great! Y'know? I'm not depressed, I've slept well for the past week, my grades are pulling up. . . Oh! And my arms and hands and phalanges have stopped hurting! YUHSSSSSSS! FUCK YOU, SAD STUFF! YOU'RE DEAD, BIATCH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA- Ehem. Excuse me.**

** Written to the sound of Savant (ISM and Sledgehammer) for, like, an hour. I never get sick of them, do I? I don't own Hetalia, the Hetalia characters, or this story. Actually, I don't know who wrote the story. . . Oh, well! Who gives a flying fuck~? Lezgo~!**

**Otto~**

Raivis sighed, leaning up against the man he considered his brother. The brunette glanced down at the smaller one, green eyes glittering with curiosity.

"What's wrong?" He asked sincerely, alerting a brunette with glasses sitting a couple desks away.

Raivis shook his head. "Nothing, Toris, not really. . ." He mumbled.

Toris frowned slightly, furrowing his thin, feminine brows. "But?"

The blonde looked up at him, not quite sure what to say. There was a 'but', but he really didn't want to say it.

The brunette with glasses walked over, books tucked under his arm. "What is it, Raivis?" He inquired, twisting his head to one side.

Raivis looked down at his hands, shifting uneasily. "W-Well, uh. . . "He let out a breathy sigh, hugging his knees. "That man who killed that Chinese man, and. . . Well, frankly, slaughtered that gay couple a couple towns over. . ." He swallowed, suddenly sweating. "He. . . He escaped, just a few hours ago. There was a news report in my last class. . ."

Eduard, the one with the glasses, straightened up, and cleared his throat nervously. Toris turned sheet-white. The three had known the hook-handed man quite well before he'd 'gone off the deep end'. He had adopted the 'brothers' into his home when they were very young, and had been a wonderful father for years. Then, one day, he snapped.

The 'brothers' had no idea why. They were so young at the time, all they could do was take the beatings, and wonder what had happened to make him this way. Raivis was terrified of the man, not for his own safety, but only for the well-being of the oldest brother.

Toris had always been the father's favorite. Some days, when Eduard or Raivis would mess up really badly, he would 'accidentally' break a vase, or a lamp, or a dish; solely to take the beating himself and protect the younger boys. He had made a good brother for years, and he had the scars to prove it.

Eduard shifted uncomfortably after a minute of silence. "I'm quite certain we'll be fine, gentlemen." He smiled hollowly at them. "As long as we take regular precautions. _See__sitapea__ei julge__tulla__kuskil__mu__kallid vennad__uuesti._"

Raivis stared at him, confused. He wasn't able to understand Estonian like Toris could. Toris nodded grimly, then excused himself to the bathroom.

They could hear his wails of terror from there.

That night, there was supposed to be a party on the campus to celebrate finals. Raivis and Eduard both decided to go for once, trying to clear their minds. Toris, however, would not speak. He didn't eat dinner that night, and wouldn't get off of his bed.

Although his brothers tried their best to lure him out of seclusion, but he never responded to any attempt, much to the pain and frusteration to the younger boys. Sadly, Toris watched the two leave once the clock struck ten, then curled up into a ball, like he would when he was little, and silently sobbed until he fell asleep.

It was almost three in the morning when the two younger brothers came home. The cold night air was still pitch-black as they stumbled home, sleepy and intoxicated. As Eduard unlocked the door, Raivis dozed off, and ended up falling asleep against his brother's shoulder, still standing. Eduard sighed, opening the door with one hand, and lifting his 'baby brother' up, bridal-style, carrying him inside, and shutting and locking the door.

Once inside, Eduard, in his drunken state, didn't notice tat the lights were off. He didn't notcie the faint whimpering in the background, which he assumed was Toris still panicking. He didn't notice when he dripped over something that felt kind of like kicking a backpack. All he noticed was the warmth of the bed the three shared as he flopped down onto it, and the chill radiating off of his older 'brothers' skin next to him as he felt himself fall asleep.

The next morning, both Eduard and Raivis woke up to pounding headaches, raging through their skulls like fire. The older of the two looked over at the clock, adjusting his slighly cracked glasses as he did so. "Damn." He cursed. "The alarm didn't go off. We overslept." He graoned, flopping back and gripping his head.

That's when he noticed that toris hadn't woken up.

Raivis must have noticed it too, for he was over by the boy's bedside in less than a second. "It's going to be okay, brother!" He promised. "Hiding won't accomplish anything, you know that! We have to go and face the world like men!"

Eduard frowned when five minutes of silence passed. "Toris?" He asked, reaching for the blanket that covered him, and pulling a little. Loose, not held down like someone panicking. "Brother, are you alright?" He pulled the sheets back, and let out a shreik when he saw his eyes.

Toris' eyes were wide open, bloodshot, and glazed over, the sparkling green irises speckled with blood that had crusted around his body like a suit. His head had been bashed in numerous times, and his face was set in a perpetual cry for help. Eduard could see where the tears had dried, and here they had dripped.

That's when both boys noticed that the mattress they had slept on the night had dried blood smeared all over it, as if it were artwork. A sentence, scrawled in their brother's blood, that would haunt the minds of the boys for the rest of their lives, and eventually drive Raivis insane; "Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the lights?"

**Scary story+A knack for writting horror+midnight= regret.**

** So, yeah, I added a lot. . . Oh well, I really don't care! I think I like how this turned out. The last half was written without auto-correct, 'cause my Daddy's laptop sucks dick. Sorry if it didn't turn out well. Glad that I'm back, fangirls? So am I. Expect a lot more, kids.**

** Adieu. Take it easy, guys.**


	6. Not a Story: Just some stuff

**Readers, **

** How's life? Good? Bad?**

**Good: Mine too, glad for you~!**

**Bad: I'm sorry, I hope it gets better soon. Sending love and sparkles your way! 3**

**Meh: That's cool, I guess. Wish you were totally happy, bro.**

** Anyway, I dunno what I'm doing, really. I'm not sure if I want to end this now, or post one last chapter. What do you guys want? I mean, do you guys want more of this? I don't know what other scary stories I should use. I used all of my favorite classics (save for Bloody Mary which really bothers me. Dunno why). Anywho, I would **_**love**_** to use some of your guys' favorites in my stories. I mean, people from places that aren't America! I know nothing of your scary stories! I need help!**

** Also, if there are any other story ideas you want to see me use, feel free to make a suggestion. I love all of you guys for giving such nice feedback in your reviews, and all of your favorites and things! It would be awesome to do something specifically for a few of you, just for being awesome and stuff!**

** Uh, and I thought I should let you know; I likely won't be able to post for awhile, simply due to an astonishing load of homework being just slammed into my face like a baws. Wish I could do something about it, but I can't. I'm not stronger than the system. Except for physically. . . and mentally. . . and emotionally. . . and socially. . . Wow. Screw you, system! I own you, BITCH!**

** Eheh, anyhow, I apologize for all that, and if you could give me your suggestions, that'd be **_**magical**_**. Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, and just being all-around bitchin'! In the words of my hero, Ron Burgundy; Stay classy, San Diego! . . . And, of course, all you other broseffs and broseffines~!**

** Haha! Anyway, see ya guys soon!- Real soon. O.o Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeee~~~!**

**Love y'all~! **

**Otto**


End file.
